


Quidditch Statistics

by LadyKes



Series: POV [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:13:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5546846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKes/pseuds/LadyKes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times in a young man's life when Quidditch statistics must be recited to maintain composure.  The Yule Ball is one of those times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quidditch Statistics

Viktor had decided it was very difficult to look calm and suave when trapped in dress robes. Had they been invented for the Dark Arts and then later repurposed as formal attire?

He was standing on the landing just before the final flight of stairs leading to the Great Hall, waiting for Hermione and trying not to fidget. He didn’t think he was succeeding all that well. Just then, a whisper of sound made him look up and he was very glad he was leaning on the stair rail. Hermione was coming down the stairs wearing some sort of blue thing that made her look absolutely gorgeous. It skimmed her figure in a way that made him suddenly very glad that she couldn’t read his thoughts.

He realized he was staring like a stunned fish and managed to collect himself enough to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. He also managed to bow over her hand and kiss it before offering her his arm. Speech was perhaps not the best idea yet, but actions were louder than words, as the English saying went.

They walked down the last flight together as gracefully as possible considering that one of them was wearing heels and the other had a tendency to shuffle. Hermione tripped slightly on the last step, which made her smile sheepishly and broke the conversational ice effectively.

“You are looking qvite beautiful tonight, Miss Granger,” he said, proud that his voice hadn’t squeaked, trembled, or otherwise betrayed him. He was eighteen and beyond such things most of the time, but this was not a normal day. 

She smiled happily and responded, “And you are looking similarly handsome, Viktor.”

She thought he looked handsome? Well, he supposed he’d not argue that, though he still felt rather silly in these robes. 

They proceeded through to the Great Hall and her hand tightened on his arm as the number of people present became obvious. He placed his other hand over her hand and smiled encouragingly, adding in a low tone, “You are most beautiful voman in room and I am lucky man to be standing next to you.”

She looked at him with astonishment and he wondered again what these silly Hogwarts boys were doing, but forgot that thought in the next moment when she smiled brilliantly at him. The warmth of the smile carried him through the motions of preparing for the Champion’s Ball, but faded when he realized he wasn’t sure how to hold her. When he’d learned to dance, he’d been told to rely on the cues of his partner and his own wishes. Generally that meant he stood about half a Quidditch field aways for fear of offending someone. He tried pulling Hermione a little closer than that and although she stiffened, she soon relaxed and smiled gently up at him as they began the steps. He could feel the curve of her back under his and and smell the vanilla perfume she wore. And when he looked down? He could see perhaps more of her bosom than she had intended him to do so. He would keep his eyes above her neck.  
She didn’t seem to mind dancing so far, though she did have a look of intense concentration on her face. He thought it was adorable, but knew enough not to tell her so. The song ended and the band began another, though this was also a waltz. Viktor decided to try pulling Hermione just a little closer and could have cheered when she came willingly. Now he could smell the citrus of her shampoo and occasionally feel the most fleeting impression of her bosom against his chest. It was provoking the usual reaction and he began to recite Quidditch fouls in his head. It always worked.

Unfortunately, he was thinking so hard about fouls that he forgot to think about dancing and caused a foul of his own by stepping on her toes. She winced and moved a little away as the music ended.

“I am sorry, Herminee. I varned you about feet, no?”

“It’s fine, Viktor,” she excused him, and added a nervous little laugh. “I’ll probably step on your feet at some point this evening and then we’ll be even.”

“Vell, I do not think I vould like that, but you haff small leetle feet, so I probably will not be injured,” he replied teasingly.

“That’s good,” she replied in the same teasing tone, “Ron and Harry would have my head if I maimed ‘Bulgaria’s Star Seeker’, even if he is currently persona non grata with them.”

Her mention of her friends reminded him that she might wish to greet them. He steered her towards the edge of the Hall and towards the clump of Gryffindors near the windows. Harry smiled at them as they approached, but Ron glared fiercely at them both.

“Hi Harry. Hi Ron,” Hermione exclaimed, having not seemed to have noticed the glare. Perhaps she was used to such things from them, but he hoped not. “You two look nice tonight.”

Harry smiled again and said, “You too, Hermione. You look amazing. I didn’t recognize you at first.”

This statement confused Viktor since as far as he was concerned Hermione always looked amazing, but he supposed when you saw someone for years, you got a bit used to their appearance. Ron had still not stopped glaring and Viktor decided perhaps this was a matter best dealt with in his absence. He would go get drinks and hopefully Ron would not be glaring at Hermione when he returned. 

“Herminee, I vill get someting to drink. Vot vould you like?”

“Just punch, thank you Viktor,” she said, smiling up at him, “And not the spiked kind. I think Fred and George may have done something.”

He bowed and began to walk away, but when he was not quite out of earshot he heard Ron begin to speak to Hermione viciously. He didn’t want to abandon her, but perhaps he ought to be very certain he did not pick the wrong punch.

When he returned, Ron was nowhere to be seen and Hermione looked rather unhappy. She looked as if she might cry, actually, which alarmed him. He didn’t know what to do when a woman cried. 

“Herminee, vot is matter?” he asked quietly, and she sniffed just a little into her punch.

“It’s Ron. He’s being a prat. He thinks you’re the enemy,” she explained, and he was glad to hear that she sounded exasperated rather than tearful now.

“Enemy? I am not enemy.”

“I know,” she said immediately, and put her free hand on his. “I think he’s jealous, actually.”

“Perhaps so. Vould you want to drink punch or dance again?” Privately Viktor knew Ron was jealous, but thought he was immature to display it so. 

“I think I’d like to dance,” Hermione said, and drained her punch before putting it on the table next to them. 

They danced the next few songs before the music changed to something fast and loud. VIktor wasn’t sure how to dance to this music, but he followed Hermione’s lead, feeling as if he looked like he had been hit in the head with a bludger. She didn’t seem to notice, though, so he relaxed a little and tried to look like he knew what he was doing.

Eventually the Ball ended and he escorted Hermione out of the Great Hall and up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. He wasn’t sure quite how to end the date, with his mamma’s prohibition about kissing too soon warring against his own inclinations. Finally they stood a few meters before the Portrait Hole and stared awkwardly at each other.

“I … had vunderful time, Herminee. Perhaps ve do this again?”

“Well, I think this is the only Yule Ball, but yes, I’d love to spend more time with you,” she replied, and he was charmed to notice that she was blushing slightly.

He decided to kiss her on the cheek, as she had done for him, but he hadn’t really counted on Hermione. She turned her head at the last moment so his kiss landed firmly on her mouth. He stiffened, worried that she would be offended, but then relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of her mouth on his. His hands went around her waist and hers went to his shoulders as she stood on her toes. He decided that since she had kissed him, his mamma couldn’t mind and deepened the kiss. After a few moments, though, he realized that his eighteen-year-old body was once again headed in the inevitable direction, and broke the kiss so he wouldn’t betray himself to her.

She was a bit flushed, but only smiled gently at him before stepping through the Portrait Hole. Viktor stared at her retreating form before turning and walking back down the stairs and out to the ship. Many Quidditch statistics would have to be recited before he arrived, but it was worth it. He wouldn’t forget this night for a long time. And he still thought his mamma would be proud.


End file.
